The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1887-04-09
THE pRuMMER-BoY,s BURIAL.
ANONYMOUS.

All day long the storm Of battle through the
startled valley swept;
All night long the stars In heaven o'er the slain
sad vigils kept
o the ghastly upturncd faces cleaning Whitley
through the night
the heaps Of mangled corses In that dim sepul.
chtal light.
One BY one the pale stars faded, and at length
the morning broke;
But not one Of all the slecpers on that field of
death awokc.
Slowly passed the golden hours Of that long
bright summer day,
And upon that field OF carnage still the dead un.
buried lay.
Lay there stark and cold, but pleading with
dumb unceasing prayer,
For little dust to hide them from the staring
sun and air.
But the fucman held possession Of that hard-won
battle-plain,
In unholy wrath denying even burial 10 our
slain.
Once again the night dropped round them,-
night so holy and so calm
That the moonbeams hushcd the spirit, like tie
sound Of prayer or psalm.
On II couch of trampled grasses, Just apart from
all the rest,
Lay fair young boy. with small hands meekly
folded on his breast.
Death had touched him very gently. and he lay
rs If in sleep;
Even his mother scarce had shuddered at that
sulubcr calm and deem d
For smile of wondrous sweetness lent radi-
ance to the face.
And the hand of cunning sculptor could have
added nausht OF grace. .'
To the marble limbs so perfect in their passion.
Robbed Of all save mdtchlcss purity by hard, un-
plying foes.
And the broken drum beside him all his lIfcs
short story told;
How he did his duty bravcly Till the death-tlde
DER him rolled.
Midnight came with ebon garments and a dadem
of stars,
While right upward in the zenith hung the fiery
planet Mars.
Hark! sound of stealtlIy footsteps and OF voices
whispering low,
Was II nothing but the young leaves, or the
brooklets murmurng fow?
Clinging closely to each other, striving never to
look round
As they passed with silent shudder the pale
corses on the ground,
Came two little naidens, -sisters-with a light
and hasty tread,
And look upon their faces, half of sorrow, half
of dread,
And they did not pause nor falter till, with
thrObbing hearts, they stood
Where the drummer-boy was lying in that par
tial solitude.
They had brought some simple garments from
their wardrobe's scanty store,
And two heavy iron shovels in their slender
hands they bore.
Then they quickly knelt beside him, crushing
back the pityng tears,
For they had no time for weeping, nor for any
girlsh fears.
And they robed the Icy body, while no glow OF
maiden shame
Changed the pallor OF their foreheads to a flush
OF lambent flame.
For their sanity hearts yearned DER it in that
hour Of sorest need,
And they felt that death was holy, and 1t sancti.
ned the deed.
But they smiled and kissed each other when their
new strange task was DER,
And the form that lay before them its unwonted
garments wore
Then with slow and weary labor small grave
they followed out,
And they lined it with the wlthered grass and
leaves that lay about.
But the day was slowly breaking ere their holy
work was done,
And In crimson pOmp the morning again herald
ed the sun.
And then those little maldens-they were CHI.
dren Of our foes
laid the body of our drummer-boy to undls-
turbed repOse.